


Chapter Twenty-Nine: Straight to Video

by CavalierConvoy



Series: MTMTE Series One: Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun [30]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Beast Wars, Transformers Generation One, Transformers Generations Two, Transformers: Beast Machines
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Gen, Movie Night, Other, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 00:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3588987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What should have been a night alone with a Toshiro Mifune flick turns into unexpected company, and Artemis regrets saying "yes" as questions diverge to topics she was not ready to face, least of all with a fellow ex-'Con, and especially when dealing with matters of faith.</p><p>What she needed was a drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter Twenty-Nine: Straight to Video

All the problems make me wanna go  
Like a bad girl straight to video  
Little darling, welcome to the show  
You're a failure, played in stereo  
—["Straight to Video"](https://youtu.be/dM6elRs7F5k) by Mindless Self Indulgence, from _You'll Rebel to Anything_

Hab Unit 74  
_Lost Light_  
Now

Artemis cleaned the hab unit. Taking advantage of Cavalier's absence, she gathered the spent cans and bottles into a box and dumped them to the recycling receptacle. Then she took her own semi-private stash and stored them in the foot locker under her berth. She swept; she dusted. 

And after, she turned on the vidscreen and flipped through what was available on the ship's server. It was fascinating to see who else was into Earth cinema. Whirl, of all people, was obsessed with _la nouvelle vague_ ; Cavalier was hosting anime of all flavours, both bootleg and legit; according to the watch list, she was with Swerve, Pipes, and Tailgate watching _Urotsukidoji: Legend of Overfiend._

_That's not going to end well._

Sunstreaker had queued up _Reservoir Dogs;_  for someone who claimed a dislike of humans, he watched a lot of Tarantino. Artemis bounced between Ingmar Bergman and Akira Kurosawa films: Max Von Sydow and Toshiro Mifune were two of her favourite human actors. Skids was in the middle of _Seventh Seal_ ; she would have to ask him what he felt about the climax. 

_Yojimbo_ was tickling her fancy tonight. As she queued it up, she made a note to the ship bulletin board to see if there was any interest in _Yojimbo_ with Clint Eastwood's _Fist Full of Dollars_ as a double feature with discussion of similarities and differences between the films.

A pip showed up in the lower left hand corner of the screen. Drift, expressing an interest in seeing the Kurosawa film as well, curious if she would like company. Slag, she forgot to set her activity to private. She considered it for the better part of the cycle before accepting the request. Any other movie, and he might end up talking her audio receptor off about Spectralism and what it did for him — 

Oh, frag, what had she agreed to? Too late to back down now. "Piss-poor timing to stop drinking," she grumbled, sitting on her slab and leaning against the wall, awaiting the inevitable as her visitor rang the door.

A half-megacycle later, her fears were confirmed: Drift failed to keep quiet. The first quarter-megacycle, he did well. Then he asked if Toshiro Mifune appeared in other films, and remained silent for another ten. Then he chatted about the Japanese culture, and how he had been attracted to Japan while he had been on Earth because of how Shinto reminded him of his lessons with the Circle of Light.

Artemis could not recall if Deadlock had been this talkative. She never ran with his missions: he had been under Megatron's direct command; she stuck with the menial grunts and was considered one of Starscream's minions. The fact that he was sitting here meant no one killed him for talking too much. They might have tried, but did not succeed.

She was coming close to break that streak.

Problem was, she was generally good at risk assessment, and he was scary good with close range combat.

"And I'm annoying you," he drawled, interrupting his own conversation.

"Sorry, Drift — this is my favourite flick; I get sucked in." Not a lie; she could quote the film in its original language, even without knowing Japanese. Masterless warrior comes into town, cleans up the crime by pitting the two gangs against one another to do the dirty work while winning the hearts of the citizens — cinematic genius.

"What're your thoughts on _Hara-Kiri_?" he questioned. "That was Mifune as well, right?"

"The original, yeah. Remake was — " she couldn't place the actor. " — eh, can't pull it up who was Hanshiro. Eleven something. But it was directed by Takashi Miike, which was mainstream for him; normally he did avant garde or horror films."

"Juinchidaime Ichikawa Ebizo," Drift suggested. "He's from a prestigious clan of Kabuki actors."

"I'll just pretend to understand what you just said," she remarked.

"Kabuki's a play combining dance, singing, and dramatic storytelling, usually on stage. Quite the performing art."

"I'll let you in on something," she leaned toward him, as though divulging a state secret. "I'm not exactly the most cultured of characters; I only got into Earth cinema because I had nothing better to do when watching desperate Decepticons squabble around for energon scraps. No offence. We got a lot of Asian cinema and television because we were on the West coast of the North America. More interesting to watch that than Dead End and Dirge going on ad nauseum about how they're doomed."

"None taken. So, subs or dubs?"

"Subs, hand down. Dubs always get lost in translation."

"One of these sols, you and I are going to spar."

"Only way I'm sparring with you is with no weapons because, damn, kid, I've seen you in action."

"Hey, goes both ways. I mean, I saw you on Temptoria; probably the first time I've seen you in action like that! Seriously, you were holding back as a grunt, weren't you?" 

He was referring to the time when she — both of them — ran violet. "Excelling in battle got you promoted, thus attracting attention. Why would I want to do that when I was maintaining a cover?" She laughed, thinking about the engex she had under her slab. "Stay subpar, stay alive. Don't attract attention. I intended to survive." Primus, there was barely a metre between her and her drug of choice. Her mood darkened. Not a good place to be. _Dammit, Drift, leave. Just...leave._

 _Not taking the hint._ The darkness was roiling in her fuel tank, threatening. _Scare tactic, make him leave._ "Tell me: earlier, you mentioned Hara-Kiri. Are you familiar with other works by Masaki Kobayashi?"

Drift grimaced, that wince of one who realised they had walked onto a live minefield. "I'm a fan of samurai films in general. Why do you ask?"

" _Ningen no Joken: The Human Condition._ It's a three parter, _No Greater Love, Road to Eternity,_ and _A Soldier's Prayer._ " Her gaze was on the screen; Sanjuro was en route to save Kohei's wife from Ushitora and his gang. _Keep talking, keep it down long enough, before —_ "It was not a samurai film, but rather one regarding Earth's Second World War, semi-autobiographical, as I understand. The primary character was a Japanese pacifist who finds himself drafted into the Army and forced to do acts against his conscience. And he fights it by doing exactly what he's told. Kaji stands up for what he believes in. And he survives. He's beaten down, tortured, everything taken away from him, yet he survives." Now she met his gaze, the dead, thousand meter glare through him. "He was good at what he did, but he did not wish to do it. Yet he did because it was expected of him, against his own desires. And what did it get him? In the end, wandering the wilderness, with the hopes of reuniting with his _conjunx endura._ And that's how it ends. But at the end of the film, he survived."

She let the resolution hang, which did nothing for the growing anxiety. _Just leave...can't...can't let you see this...take the hint!_

"Gotta say," Drift broke the silence after a cycle, "I may have missed that one."

 

Discomfort. It was a start, a loose thread to pull. "Well, I'll let you in on something," she retorted, picking up her 'pad. "I just queued it up. So you can do two things: walk out after Yojimbo, or stick around for the next six-plus megacycles as the lifeforce is sucked right out of you."

"I caught you at a bad time, didn't I?"

 _Primus, you can't be this dense!_ Her warning retort had been primed. "I'm nearly twenty megacycles sober and irritable as all hell. Ratchet put me on medical leave, meaning I'm idling my engines. I can't officially talk to my therapist for a few sols, and I'm stuck sitting here going over my slag-list in my head, realising there's more red than violet on it. I'm sitting on ten litres of Nightmare Fuel and a case of Stormin' the Garrison, and I've resisting the urge to crack them since you came in. Nothing against you, pretty, but yeah, I'm a bit in a bad way right now."

He did not move from his spot; instead, he cocked his head to one side. "Is there anything I can do to help?" A pause. "Did I say something wrong?"

By his reaction, he picked up her rising fear catching in her throat. _Frag! Dammit, just leave just leave just leave! Keep it down keep it down keep it down —_   "Not you — just. Situation. Trigger." She clenched her hands, pressing them into her thighs. "I — I just. Moment." _Intake, outtake._ "Not paranoid."

"Never thought you were," Drift stated, even, calculated. "Should I — "

 _Not there. Where's there? No, on ship. Lost Light. Home. Safe. With friends._  She shook her head, held up a finger. _One click. Intake, outtake. Panic ebbing._ "Getting better."

"What triggered it? Something I said?"

Again, she shook her head, distantly aware of a rocking sensation. "No use. Just can't shake it."

He was fighting the urge. He knew her ground rules, her boundaries. "I wish there was a way I could help you to find peace," he settled.

Artemis coughed; she had meant it to be a chuckle, and although the attack was fading, it settled, curled up around her spark, lying in wait to stretch again. "Closer to peace than before. Work in progress."

His hands were fists, in resistance, a reminder. _Do not touch._ "You don't have to do it alone."

"Rod put you up to this? Cav? Both?" Concentrate. Friends.

"I...can't deny that we're concerned for your well-being." He was avoiding optic contact. "Rodimus tells me he owes you. How much you risked just to save him. He...feels responsible for what happened to you. But Rodimus being Rodimus has a hard time admitting it."

"Nyonian trait." Just one stout — moderation was the key. But she remained rooted. She would not succumb to weakness in front of her guest. "I owe Rod."

"But you're not on this quest for the Knights."

"I'm here for the company." Anxiety was ebbing, uncoiling, but not dissipating. "To protect them. Only thing for me to do on Cybertron was to check off my slag-list." She leaned back, against the wall. "I...wouldn't have made friends if I had stayed. Didn't want to continue like that."

They sat in silence as the film drew to a close, with Sanjuro sparing the farmer's son he had met in the beginning of the film. Artemis was counting on Drift to leave; he remained, keeping a sympathetic optic on her. She intended to call him on it.

Pounding rattled the door in its frame, dispersing her intention. "Security!" The unmistakable voice of Trailcutter shouted from the other side. "We have a report of queueing utterly depressing Earth cinematic epics! This is a cease and desist! We are going to watch buddy cop comedies until you snap out of that funk!"

The door slid open, and Cavalier led the charge, accusatory finger at her roommate. "You promised Creep and me! No downer movies alone! And seeing that no one wants to watch your stupid downer movies with you, you're S.O.L.! Except _The Crow_ , but that's besides the point."

"She narced on you," Trailcutter followed the white and black Minibot, leading his own entourage consisting of Hoist, Grapple, and Huffer. 

"And I think that may be my cue to leave," Drift slid off Cavalier's slab. "Sorry, Cav, not much of a buddy cop fan."

"Not even for _Three Flavours Cornetto_ trilogy?" she whined. "Simon Pegg and Nick Frost are genius!"

"Yeah, I was there the first three times you binge-watched it," Drift smirked, bapping the top of her helm. "You guys enjoy; now that I know Art's in good company, I should do serious stuff now. Art, thanks for sharing the Mifune love!" 

"There is nothing wrong with watching Three Flavours more than once!" Huffer protested as Drift exited the hab unit.

"Some 'bots just don't have the stamina for awesomeness," Cavalier shook her head, reclaiming her slab. "So I gathered up a party and we're gonna enjoy light-hearted humour surrounding gratuitous shots of zombie apocalypse, diabolical government plots, and alien invasions, in that order!"

Artemis did not register the conversation following. Drift kept her panic attack quiet, which led to one of two conclusions: he respected her privacy, or he would report it to Ratchet because she wouldn't. 

"I never visited London," Grapple admitted as he and Hoist took the floor. "Maybe some day, if we go back to Earth. The country-side architecture is quite breathtaking, especially considering the tools available to them at the time. Some of those buildings are hundreds, even thousands, of stels old — think in relation to humans' lifespans!"

"If we can return to Earth," Huffer sighed, taking the other end of Cavalier's slab. There were those, especially in Optimus's crew, who did enjoy their time on the organic planet, regardless of how the humans treated them. 

"It's a wonder we have any trade relations anymore," Hoist added; his tone was guarded, a trait Artemis picked up whenever he spent any amount of time in her presence. "Likely the Sirians are keeping things together with the colonies—" 

"No talking politics!" Cavalier chided. "You wanted to join us, you abide by our rules!"

"Aren't you bossy tonight?" Trailcutter chuckled, taking the half of Artemis's slab that she wasn't occupying. Four full-sized Autobots and two Minibots in a hab unit with barely enough room for two was teetering on coziness.

"'Course I am — someone's gotta keep an eye on the boss without Skyfire around," Cavalier brought up her queue on her 'pad and transferred the set to the vidscreen. "So, what brought on the urge to watch something so depressing as the mere mention of the title would bring crowds to their knees in mass despair?"

"Trying to figure out a subtle way to have Drift excuse himself," Artemis admitted. "His perkiness was getting to me."

"Well, excuse us for attempting to make your night a little more cheerful!" Grapple exclaimed.

Artemis leaned forward, tapping his helm. "Yeah, but you're not singing the praises of the Cee-Oh-Ell with the intention of converting me." Leaning back, she added, "he does like a good samurai flick, though."

"And according to Cav, he's pretty to look at," Huffer pointed out. "I could also tell you the other things she leaves in the ventilation — _mmmphf!_ " 

Cavalier had clamped a hand over his mouth, holding him down. "Those are for antiquity, you motormouth!" she snarled. 

Trailcutter was silent through the exchange; as Hoist and Grapple's attention were on the wrestling Minibots, Artemis stole a glance to meet her friend's optics, his mouth a simple line.

Drift was one with administrative privileges. Meaning he was a person of interest in their private investigation.  
Second, he tapped her fist, closest to him. She looked down; it was shaking, clenched tight. 

In the short time knowing one another, he picked up her ticks. He knew she had an attack.

She mouthed "later," and brought her attention to bear on the vidscreen.

He took her hand, giving it a friendly squeeze, and did not let go.

 

NEXT CHAPTER: Fistful of Steel


End file.
